


even when the night changes (it will never change me and you)

by countingto15



Series: all week i've been your husband, tonight i wanna be your man [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex and Henry are daddies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Sex, Mushy Matrimony, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Top Alex / Bottom Henry, and horny, it’s just soft and fluffy and hopefully hot as well, just firstprince being cute, they take a bubble bath together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingto15/pseuds/countingto15
Summary: Warmth blooms in Alex’s chest. He tilts his head a little. “Like what you see?”Henry bites his lip just a little as he pulls Alex’s shirt off, fingertips brushing Alex’s skin. He nods.“You want it?”“Mhm.” He reaches out and rests a hand on one side of Alex’s chest.“Then come and take it, baby.”
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: all week i've been your husband, tonight i wanna be your man [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718704
Comments: 26
Kudos: 275





	even when the night changes (it will never change me and you)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Night Changes” by One Direction
> 
> An unfinished version of this fic has been sitting in my docs for oh so very long and I’m so happy it’s done and you guys finally get to have it!

For once, as he lies in bed, Alex’s mind is blissfully blank. It’s a feeling he didn’t have the luxury of experiencing as a child, always too turbulent and restless. He didn’t feel it in his adolescent years either, never got a chance to feel it in college, and barely ever got a taste of it for the entire eight years his mom was in the White House. The only nights he went to bed with anything near a blank mind were when he worked himself so hard he crashed the second his head hit the pillow. 

But now he’s not thinking about work, aware he has adequate time left for his unfinished assignments. He’s not thinking about the kids, content with knowing they’re sleeping soundly in their rooms. He’s not thinking about the million things he somehow manages to fill his mind with on most days.

And tonight it’s not because he’s exhausted. It’s because he’s at peace. 

To top it all off, there’s a beautiful man lying next to Alex, curled up on his side, wearing an oversized t-shirt and nothing else (because he’s cute like that), breathing in a gentle rhythm with his hands tucked under his head. And despite his undying love for said man, Alex isn’t really _thinking_ about him either. Watching, maybe. But just watching. Watching the points of his spine press against the soft fabric of his t-shirt, watching his torso rise and fall steadily with each breath, watching him.

Alex will admit there are sometimes moments when he finds himself taking Henry for granted, taking that fact that Henry promised his life to him for granted. Like when he gets a little too heated over something petty, maybe a little too irritated that Henry left a mess of some sort behind in the kitchen. But Alex tries his best and catches himself, and if he doesn’t, he makes it up, because at the very least, Henry, for being so kind and loving and gentle and _himself_ , deserves the best husband in the world. And while that’s impossible for Alex to offer, as the best husband in the world is curled up right next to him, Alex hopes he has a shot at second place.

And god, does Alex want to say thank you. He _really_ wants to say thank you. Because watching Henry breathe means watching the slight bulge of his bicep as it rises and falls against his waist, which is tapered to absolute perfection down from his broad shoulders, and leading so smoothly to the curve of his ass—it is a _fine fucking ass_ , Alex observes—and, wow, has Henry always been this hot? Alex thinks, probably yes. Or did he get hotter? God, how long has it been since they last had sex? Weeks, Alex realizes. For nights in a row he and Henry have opted for lazy nights reading or cuddling under the lamplight if they caught the time, Charlie or Benji needing help with homework precedent other days. 

But now, Alex _wants_ Henry. He’s not sure how asleep he is, though, so, like the godforsaken, cheesy, terrible cliché he has apparently become, Alex reaches out for Henry’s hand. 

Henry intertwines their fingers. Alex smiles. 

“Hey,” Alex says quietly, turning his body towards Henry.

“Hey,” Henry responds. Quiet, relaxed, but not like he’d been asleep. 

Alex slides one hand slowly up the back of Henry’s shirt and moves closer, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. 

“How are you?” Alex whispers near Henry’s ear, his lips grazing Henry’s skin. 

“Wonderful, thank you for asking,” he responds, but Alex can feel him leaning into the touch, can hear that little shudder in his voice. 

So he _does_ still have some game. Good to know. 

He slides his hand across the outside of Henry’s thigh, his shirt quite ridden up now, at least in the back.

“You know,” Alex starts, dragging his fingertips against the skin, getting teasingly close to Henry’s ass, “I love me a man who can go commando.” 

In the dark, Alex can faintly see Henry’s mouth spreading into a wide smile. 

“Is this a confession?” he asks. 

“Maybe it is. Maybe,” Alex rolls over so he’s on top of Henry, knees bracketing his body, “I love _you_.”

“I would hope so,” Henry whispers, smile still evident in his voice. “You married me ages ago.”

“Good choice,” Alex says with a nod.

“The best,” Henry agrees, and Alex doesn’t even have time to lean forward for a kiss because Henry grabs his face and pulls him downward first, and he lets their lips brush, lets them both open their mouths and breathe in anticipation before connecting, and they smile into it as Alex laces his fingers into Henry’s messy, wayward hair. He can taste the traces of toothpaste on Henry’s mouth as one of Henry’s hands slips under Alex’s shirt and onto his back. He sinks into the warm feeling of it. 

Henry reaches over for his bedside lamp and turns it on. Alex hisses and covers his eyes at the glaring brightness. 

“Sorry,” Henry laughs, twisting the knob to dim it.

Alex laughs as well. “What was that for?” 

“I wanted to see you.”

Warmth blooms in Alex’s chest. He tilts his head a little. “Like what you see?”

Henry bites his lip just a little as he pulls Alex’s shirt off, fingertips brushing Alex’s skin. He nods. 

“You want it?”

“Mhm.” He reaches out and rests a hand on one side of Alex’s chest.

“Then come and take it, baby.”

Henry props himself up high enough on the pillows so that he can he kiss Alex, then trail down, across his neck and collarbones and—

The creak of a door and the sound of soft footsteps make him pause.

“Is that…”

“They won’t come in here,” Alex says, surging down to kiss Henry again. Henry lets him, then breaks away.

“Is the door locked?” he asks.

Alex looks over his shoulder. _Probably not._

“Could you go check, love?”

Alex turns back to Henry and kisses him again, hand sliding up the side of his shirt this time. Henry gives it back good, letting their mouths slide well open, tongues brushing against each other. He pulls back quickly, though.

“Please?” he asks, with a tilt of his head and a smile. 

Alex groans but returns the smile and pushes Henry against the bed. 

“Fine,” he says, rising from the mattress, because Henry looks too soft and rumpled and, now, smug. He locks their bedroom door and returns to his husband.

“Now give me this,” Alex says, bearing down on Henry and reaching around to squeeze his ass. Henry laughs a quiet, handsome laugh that turns out to be contagious, and somehow, he ends up on top of Alex, and Alex is stroking his fingers up the inside of Henry’s thigh, until he just reaches the base of his cock, which is urgently making its presence known against the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Henry presses his hips against Alex’s in response, making Alex cry out a little at the sweet friction. He finally pulls Henry’s shirt off. 

“Get the lube,” Alex tells him, with a kiss. 

Henry nods and sifts through the nightstand drawer just momentarily before giving it to Alex, who discards his own pants before wetting his fingers. 

And then Henry’s weight is pressing down on Alex and his breath is warm against the side of Alex’s face as Alex slides his fingers down the body he knows so well and finds that little entrance waiting for him. And Henry’s cock is growing stiffer against the front of Alex’s boxers as Alex slips a second finger inside him and feels around until it finds that little swell, and Alex pushes and drags and Henry gasps and grips the bedsheets to Alex’s side.

“There. _There_.”

Alex bites Henry’s neck, his ear, and picks up the pace. Henry slides one hand through Alex’s hair and tugs ever-so-slightly, which messes with Alex’s head in the best way. He pushes a third finger in, to which Henry releases a deep, long moan, and Alex turns him onto his back. His lips dragging across Henry’s navel, he says, “Open up for me.”

Henry pushes himself up onto Alex’s fingers, then spreads his thighs, making way for him. Alex uses his free hand to hold onto one of Henry’s hips.

“Wider, baby,” Alex says, not because he needs more room, but because it makes Henry _moan_ with anticipation as he complies.

Alex’s boxers come off slowly, with kisses to Henry’s legs, his knees, in between, making him watch. Making him wait for it. 

He lowers himself onto Henry’s body once he’s done, his lips right up against Henry’s ear, and he combs a little hair out of Henry’s face.

“What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” he whispers. A little shift of his body to fit against Henry more comfortably makes Henry groan, their chests, their bellies, their cocks—Alex’s considerably slick with lube—warmly pressed against each other. 

“You know what I want.” 

“Do I?” He drags his fingers down Henry’s shoulder.

Henry wraps one leg around Alex’s and nods, breathing heavily. The weight feels so fucking good.

“I’m not sure that I do.” 

Henry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“You’re gonna have to tell me, Hen. Or else I’m just gonna be sitting here and this wonderful dick’s gonna have nowhere to go—”

“I want you to _fuck_ me, you insufferable— _Ah!_ ”

“Like that?” Alex asks, smugly, having succeeded in making Henry pull out that dark and deadly tone Alex loves being on the receiving end of.

“ _Just_ like that.”

Alex builds up a slow rhythm and Henry’s hands are on his back, his legs wrapped around him, and he’s moaning and so warm and tight and, “ _So ready for me, babe._ ”

An obscene noise escapes Henry’s throat in response.

Alex had already teased that perfect spot with his fingers, but he makes it his mission to reach it again, harder to find this way, but far from impossible after years of practice. 

He’s not even chasing an orgasm yet, just letting the pleasure build, and soaking up _Henry_ , who is so motherfucking beautiful it simply isn’t fair. Even after being together day after day, in moments like this, the way he has the audacity to look is torture of the best kind, because Henry’s eyes are his favorite eyes, and Henry’s mouth is his favorite mouth, and Henry’s neck, and his shoulders, and his waist—

“I love you,” Alex says, his voice coming out hot and strained. Henry reaches for him and pulls him in tight, connects their mouths in a messy, open kiss. 

Alex’s hips have shifted from being pulled forward by Henry, so his next thrust is at a different angle, and it makes Henry let out a raspy groan that goes straight to Alex’s cock.

“ _Baby_ ,” he says.

Henry nods, his eyes falling shut as Alex pulls part of the way out, then pushes in again.

“Henry. _Sweetheart_.” Alex gives the spot near Henry’s ear a little bite.

“Touch me,” Henry begs, so quietly. “ _Please._ ” He tangles his fingers in Alex’s curls. “Please, love.” 

“Anything for you.”

He kisses the first spot his mouth lands on, which ends up being Henry’s cheek, then makes a quick grab for the lube, he himself still buried halfway inside Henry. He squeezes a drop of it onto his palm and gives Henry’s gorgeous, desperate cock one long pull. Henry inhales sharply and arches up toward Alex. 

Alex continues, steadily, savoring the feeling of Henry’s warm breath against his neck.

“I wanna see you come for me, baby,” he says, feeling himself getting close as he continues his slow rhythm. “I wanna see your cock dripping wet, and I wanna know it’s from me.” 

“It’s always from you,” Henry chokes out, and the words completely go to Alex’s head, just like Henry must have known they would, and Alex pushes in just a little rougher. Henry gasps and presses his soft fingers into Alex’s back. 

It pushes Henry over the edge, and Alex lets Henry ride it out, holding onto his cock with just a little pressure as it happens, just how he knows Henry likes it. And watching Henry causes Alex to meet him right there, feeling himself release into him, and it’s warm and heavy and amazing.

He watches it play out on Henry’s face as he peaks, as his orgasm seems to roll through him in waves. His face is so flushed, and _god_ this look on his face is one of Alex’s absolute favorites, and he can’t bear to look away from how the proof of the pleasure he gave Henry is displayed across the way his eyes close so tight and his mouth has fallen open just so. It’s intense and drawn out, and eventually he comes back down, and he exhales the softest laugh, and Alex just wants to caress his pretty face, so he does. 

Then he pulls out, and burrows his face in his favorite spot in Henry’s neck, where it’s smooth and lovely and smells so strongly of Henry, and he starts to ask a question.

“Was it one of those…”

Henry nods and smiles and gives Alex a long, tender kiss. And Alex smiles satisfiedly against his baby’s lips. 

It’s not that often that Alex can give Henry a prostate orgasm, but when he manages it, he can’t help but feel a little pleased with himself. 

They stay there for a minute, and Henry starts absentmindedly playing with Alex’s hair and it feels so, so nice. He lets himself melt into it a little before looking down at that dribble of cum still sitting on Henry’s skin.

“Be right back, _pastelito_ ,” he says, kissing Henry’s forehead.

Henry scrunches his nose adorably, simply reinforcing Alex’s point, and Alex makes his way to their bathroom, fishing a hand towel out of the closet and soaking it with warm water, then wringing it out. He comes back and sits by Henry’s side, staring at his body and face, both pink and glowing.

”You’re actually so beautiful,” Alex says with a wipe of the towel.

“Yeah?”

He nods. 

“So are you.” Henry brushes a curl away from Alex’s forehead.

“I guess that’s why we’re the perfect match,” Alex says with his signature charm, and it makes Henry laugh his soft, gorgeous, genuine laugh. 

“I love you, Alex.”

“I love you even more and you will not fight me on it because you will be wrong.” He kisses Henry’s forehead, then his lips because he can’t help himself, and why should he?

“Debatable,” Henry dares to say. Alex places a finger over his lips.

“Shh.”

Henry kisses the finger, and Alex falls in love. 

He’s lost track of how many times it’s happened now. Always with the same man.

Henry takes Alex’s hand, rests it on his own chest, and closes his eyes. Alex watches him for a moment, drowsily, then starts to gently pull away.

“Where are you going?” Henry whines in almost-baby voice.

“To put this cummy towel away, babe.”

Henry opens his eyes and makes a face of disgust. 

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Alex says. “Besides,” he says, on his way to the bathroom, “it’s _your_ cum. Mine’s inside of you.”

Henry doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. 

“I feel sweaty,” Alex says, as he returns and takes Henry’s face in his hands and kisses his nose.

“Me, too.” 

“Do you wanna take a bath with me?”

“I’d love to.”

So Henry follows him into the bathroom as he runs the tap and checks the water with his hand, and they chat about everything and nothing, and Alex retrieves that pretty little bottle of scented liquid from the cabinet. 

“You’re such a child,” Henry chuckles. 

Alex gestures towards the bottle. “Hey, look at this sleek, minimalistic packaging. These bubbles are for big boys, like us.” 

Henry laughs so hard his eyes squeeze shut, and they slip into the water together. 

Henry gives his best effort to helping scrub Alex down, but Alex is deeply preoccupied with fashioning him a bubble crown. 

“My prince,” he says with a dramatic bow, admiring his finished product. 

They dry off sleepily, and they smell good, and Henry looks pretty, and maybe, just maybe, he looks a little _too_ pretty, and maybe Alex sinks to his knees on the hard bathroom floor, and Henry clutches the countertop behind him. And maybe his head tilts back as Alex makes him come again, and they fall back into bed, actually going to sleep, this time.

In each other’s arms, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, guys. My next fic is probably gonna be a 5 +1 so I’m excited for that and I hoped you liked this! Leave a comment, like, if you wanna <3
> 
> Also! Pastelito technically means small cake, and it’s used basically like cutie pie is in English.
> 
> ALSO!! I know everyone’s thirsty for bottom Alex and SO AM I, I PROMISE. He’s going to be making many more appearances in the future, hopefully
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
